


Sacrilegious

by rhiisu



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Age Difference, Enemies, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, One Shot, Pansexual Character, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, Touching, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 05:43:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20755277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhiisu/pseuds/rhiisu
Summary: Zane would be lying if he said he didn't get off on watching his digi-clone touch Troy like this. Did that make him a fan of voyeurism, or was it more akin to exhibitionism? ... He knew himself enough to say the answer was a messy mix of both.





	Sacrilegious

**Author's Note:**

> A gold nugget of sinful words, strung together for y'alls pleasure. Enjoy!

It's okay that nothing permanent would come from this.

That's how Troy preferred it. He had been doing it this way for years now, practically from the time his budding sexuality reared its head, and there was certainly no downfall in his eyes. It was with glee he could take what he so desired from his partners and not be expected to reciprocate—that is, apart from his own pooling arousal, coiling inside his body like a hungry predator, ready to spring loose at the slightest of opportunities.

That being said, love was... sacred. Sex? Sex was not.

Exhaling slowly while slick fingers danced over hot flesh, Troy thought of the complicated mess that was his relationship with his twin sister. Was that love? Would Tyreen consider it love? Surprisingly, being literally cut from someone's body at birth did not make one closer to their host, even if the general consensus was that twins were inherently bonded creatures. It was certainly not so simple, regardless of what anyone would tell you.

"Universal domination?" A pleasant voice interrupted the stream of thoughts thrumming through his head, charismatic and smooth on Troy's ears. The lack of a warm sigh on his neck didn't stop him from shuddering, eyelashes kissing the rise of his stapled cheeks when he looked down at the vault hunter beneath him. Zane never seemed to look helpless to him, even like this. Perhaps that was what made him alluring to the younger of the two; it was an attractive challenge to break him.

"You know it," He crooned back, his characteristic sneer reappearing across his thin lips. Pulled to one side, the expression looked like it was his birthright—and Troy took advantage of that. "But business comes after pleasure."

"I thought it was the other way around– ...in fact, I'm quite sure of that."

Mirroring him in a way, Zane grinned teasingly, swiping his calloused thumb pad over the sensitive tip of his partner's sex. It didn't have much of a visible effect on Troy, but he did set his molars tight together, thoughts fluttering to the idea of pressing his cock just barely past those arrogant lips.

"Not today. Now shut up. You're not going to keep me hard with small talk."

That was probably the last time Troy could keep the shudder from his voice. 

Zane took the demand in stride, focusing his affections on the location of Troy's gripes; his cock wasn't exceptionally small or large, but instead a comfortable girth and length that fit quite nicely in Zane's hand and, if he had to say so himself, his mouth, too. From behind the cultist, a faded blue image of himself jerked and swayed into existence, quickly closing in on the God. 

One would be surprised when it came to the capabilities of digi-clones. It wasn't like a ghost, or ghoul, or anything of the sort—and those were the most frequent thought processes when it came to his clone, much to Zane's chagrin. In fact, most didn't come into close contact with them, of course, so they couldn't know, but it was rare for an individual to forget the first time they were touched, "skin" to skin, by a digitalized partner. 

It still made Troy sigh, even now, several times after his first time, and Zane was absolutely smitten with himself and what he could do to the Calypso twin balanced on his lap. The first time had Troy on edge, clearly not one for intimacy, but Zane was quickly able to convince him that his digi-clone could do some _ impressive _ things.

It was terribly difficult to keep his mouth shut while watching Troy's decorated chest rise and fall with each quickened breath. A wide pupil followed the image of a blue hand sliding over the bare torso, fingers reaching almost desperately for a rising rib cage, a firm sternum, a lithe neck. Zane leisurely pumped his fist around Troy's cock while he watched the scene, letting out his own quivering breath of anticipation.

"You want more?" He forced out, tightening his grip as he watched his digi-clone drag static bitten fingers over the cultist's jawline, rising hesitantly to stop at the corner of his lips. Troy grimaced, but reluctantly nodded, baring his teeth ever-so-slightly. If this didn't feel so good, he wouldn't let this filthy heretic touch his holy flesh—this, he was sure to repeat silently to himself.

"Open your mouth..."

The command was exactly that, but breathless enough to make Troy comply without thought, the muscles beneath his stapled cheeks loosening in response to such a pleasant sound from the older man.

"Good boy."

Resisting the urge to hiss in protest, Troy slid his tongue past his parted lips, meeting the unstable image of the digi-clone's two fingers. The sensation was almost unpleasant, as the digitalized flesh didn't feel the same as actual flesh, but Troy had gotten used to it enough to not recoil when his tongue met what he loosely called skin. Instead, his jaw slackened a fraction more, tongue pushing between the curiously luke-warm fingers.

Zane would be lying if he said he _ didn't _ get off on watching his digi-clone touch Troy like this. Did that make him a fan of voyeurism, or was it more akin to exhibitionism? The former gunman for hire sucked at his teeth, tightening his grip around Troy's cock, and slowed his strokes to opt for rubbing small circles against the weeping head. He knew himself enough to say the answer was a messy mix of both.

"Did it hurt?" The operative murmured, reaching up with his free hand to brush over the seams and staples decorating his mate's face. "These?" A soft breath hesitated in his lungs while his clone's fingers thrusted beneath Troy's tongue, undoubtedly curling in the supple amount of saliva that pooled with his involuntary anticipation.

A furrowed brow and the sudden, threatening presence of teeth at the invading fingers was Troy's response, and although he knew he couldn't do much to deter the clone from continuing, his metallic fingers were clenched hardly six inches from the fevered sight of Zane's own arousal, begging to be freed from the resilient fabric confining him. Before he could prevent it, a bead of saliva rose to the corner of his mouth, dribbling down over his chin. When Troy reached with his left arm to wipe the mess up, Zane caught his arm, his grip firm enough to make Troy writhe between the two bodies, fingers flexing.

"Don't. I like how you look right now."

Troy made a guttural noise of protest, pressing forward. His cock twitched, pressing up against the conspicuous arousal between Zane's legs—it felt heavenly, but was certainly not enough to sate him. There was a loud, metallic creak, an artificial joint calling out complaints as Troy leaned back and hooked his fabricated digits beneath Zane's waistband.

_ Fuck. _ He jerked away, saliva spilling further down his chin, accompanying a rush of long-withheld air violently escaping pale lips. With his mouth free, Troy swallowed, an embarrassing amount of saliva coating his throat. He found himself disappointed he hadn't used it for a higher purpose.

"Take it off," He groaned in a hushed voice, arm creaking once more in protest as he pulled on the barrier keeping him from what he considered _ his _ . The marbled button strained against the sewn string holding it in place, pressing into Troy's metallic palm. He didn't care if he had to tear the fabric thread by thread from Zane's body—he would get what he wanted; he _ always _ got what he wanted.

Zane would have been smug if he wasn't choking on his own strangled breaths. If Troy didn't know better, he'd think that the vault hunter's throat was raw and bloodied, blanketed in lovely, sanguine gore. Unfortunately, the best he would get from Zane was perhaps a fevered craving for the taste of his sacred flesh. 

"_Come _ for me first, God King. Show me what you can do with this pretty little thing." The button popped from it's snug home when Zane flicked at the underside of Troy's cock, eliciting a hoarse groan, glazed with fleeting pain and deep seated arousal. They both knew Troy could do it with little encouragement on Zane's side – he had done it before, eager under the request of his influential partner – but the difficult part was convincing Troy that it was within his best interest. Cunning and calculated could quickly fade from his resumé in the heat that was his desperately yearned for climax.

Thankfully, Troy did not require additional convincing as his organic hand twitched, arm moving over his torso to replace Zane's hand on his engorged cock. It was warm to the touch, even in his flushed palm, and the pulse thrumming beneath the thin, sensitive flesh urged him to grip tighter, move closer, breathe deeper. Beginning with a slow pace, Troy stroked himself with care, eyes darting from the pre-cum escaping the slit of his cock and the insanely erotic expression on Zane's face. In seconds, Zane was following the cultist's lead, hand slipping into his buttonless pants with ease, fingers hungrily enveloping the source of his discomfort.

_ One. _

Tighter. Scarred fingers belonging to both of them had to coil tighter around salivating girths, adorning imperfect intimacy in their haste to cross the finish line first.

_ Two. _

That expression. Zane wanted to burn that expression on Troy's face into his mind forever; he needed to create a mental keepsake to masturbate to when the undeniable urge arose once more.

_ Three. _

Heat. At some point along the way, their lips met, crashing together like a violent storm as if they were there to prove something, to _ show _ something.

Perhaps they were.

Snagging the supple flesh of Zane's bottom lip between glimmering cuspids, Troy bucked his hips like an obscene animal in heat, shamelessly rutting around until his pre-cum smeared messily over Zane's abdomen and his cock caught _ just right _between their bodies. With his hand freed, Troy let out a sound akin to a plea; the joints of his artificial arm groaned as he engulfed Zane's upper back in his arms, sloppily humping in a near aimless fashion as he chased his reward.

"Zane—..." 

There was an eerie moment of silence, then a forceful intake of air as Troy closed his eyes, a slight shudder wracking through his toned body. He went rigid and began shivering against Zane, his lips forming words with no corporeal form. The creases in his cheeks flexed in a bizzare fashion as he violently clenched his jaw, fangs exposed for brief periods while he rode out his well deserved orgasm.

A moment that felt like a lifetime dragged by, contributing nothing but the sound of shallow panting.

"Ah… filthy boy," Zane grunted, pushing Troy back and revealing the pale cum slathered over his hairy body. He absently noted how similar the shade of cum was compared to the soft trail of hair parading down and past his disheveled waistband. "Are gods supposed to be this easily worked up?"

_ Ggh. _

Quickly uncoiling himself from his guarded position upon Zane's lap, Troy scowled, baring his teeth without a sound. He didn't waste time looking around, finding something nearby to clean his softening cock before tucking it away and fixing his pants. Before any more annoyances could be made apparent, Troy edged towards the door, ashen eyes flickering to where Zane's hand still held his hidden erection, swollen with yet unachieved results. With one heavy boot through the threshold, the twin cocked his head and sneered.

"Depends… Are vault hunters always second in line?"

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't the best I could do, as I haven't written anything for people to read in years, and Borderlands is not a series I've written for before, but I honestly just needed to write something for Troy and Zane was the first partner I thought of for him. Yay for rarepairs? 
> 
> Thank you for reading! 💕


End file.
